One Big Ball of A Grade Cuteness

I haven’t talked about much lately, mainly due to a busy uni schedule (I finish in 4 weeks!!!!!!) but I also haven’t really had much to talk about. But I’m going to take you back a week, a week to last Friday, a day that will remain in memories for many a time to come.

Most mornings I wake and welcome in the new day with a smile wondering what the day will bring. Little did I know that today was going to go as it did. On this morning my smile was greater than usual and the next 45 minutes one could perhaps only describe as heavenly. Although slightly tired, I went off to uni feeling quite peachy and energised, ready for the 3 hours of coaching sessions that were to follow. Part of my Coaching Principles course involves each person conducting a 30 minute coaching session for the group. The thought that I still had another week until I was scrutinised over my coaching ways was relaxing and the softball, soccer, and netball sessions that I participated in were quite enjoyable. Then came some surprising news. I was in fact due to coach today. Confusion was soon overtaken by panic but with the exquisite skill of quick thinking that I possess I was able to create and conduct my football (aussie rules) session with the excitement and fervour that only I could. All in all, it went quite well. It will not be long before my coaching skills will take the Stradbroke School year 6 netball team to that one big last Saturday in September. Well, maybe that one big Friday evening of term 4.

But onto what Friday was really all about – the second round of the Eastern Suburbs Poker Tour.

The night started with a BBQ consisting of some of the finest sausages, chops, chicken and those things I can’t pronounce that has ever been BBQ’d and consumed. Possibly because the BBQ did not explode, catch fire, or singe any eye brows for the first time in 2 years, possibly because Andymanx and Edgy were not involved in the cooking process and I was in charge of onion, not Hoogster.

Once everyone had eaten (and farted) as much as they could, the real reason 7 people were gathered in the one room commenced. The 4 players represented in the first round (myself, Hoogster, Thearley and Phatty T) were all present along with 3 new faces (Edgy, Emil and Jason), promising one big night was in store. As the alcohol flowed and the hands were folded it became clear that the newcomers were riding the ‘beginners luck’ theory, throwing caution to the wind and on most occasions coming up trumps. It was most frustrating for Phatty and Hoogster who both found their chips dwindling, a stark contrast to round 1 when they were battling it out for the victory. With one well played hand (or pure luck as Hoogster and Phatty will protest) Jason delivered the final blow, his full house knocking the round 1 heroes out of the competition.

Thearley, too, was finding the going tough but a determined effort saw him fight back, however his struggles were in vain. Soon after the departure of the previous 2, Thearley’s demise was all too painful to watch. As with his round 1 exit, lady luck wasn’t by his side and the cry of “adios” soon left the mouth of the English lad. This left myself to fly the flag the original 4 pride. Surely the 3 newcomers couldn’t take out the top 3 spots.

By now the drinks were flowing freely and the concentration needed to make final 3 was immense. Maybe a tactic, Edgy had only consumed soft drink and Emil, known for his excessive drinking, was still only on his second bottle of Coldies. The 2 six packs he walked through the door with looked like a ploy to catch others off their guard but it was soon obvious he was getting stuck into the vodkas. With over the top bets and a face that said “I’m bluffing”, it looked like the end for Croatia’s favourite export yet for every hand he lost, he somehow managed to win it back. In the end it was the soft drinking Edgy who bowed out in a respectable 4th place. Blaming his recurring knee problem, the last few hands were thrown away, leaving Jason with piles.

Jason also had the largest pile of chips, the clear chip leader over Emil and myself, now struggling under the pressures of top 3. By now the night was wearing on, the competition entering its 4th hour. Having to do something dramatic to make an indentation into Jason’s chips, all-in was called but, alas, the generous host found himself finishing in 3rd, leaving Jason and Emil to duel it out in a battle to the death. And the death came quickly for the undermanned Emil, Jason outnumbering Emil by at least 10 to 1. The camera was out and the happy victor was all too keen to be photographed with his winnings.

After congratulatory handshakes and celebrations, quick calculations were made to the Tour league standings. With points awarded from 7 to 1 depending on round ranking, the standings were shaken up a bit, resulting in the following:


Samadoochi - 10
Phatty T - 9
Hoogster - 8
Jason - 7
Thearley - 7
Emil - 6
Edgy - 4

With the formal part of the night out of the way and done with it was time to party! The music cranked up, the drinks continued to flow (including a bottle of Elijah Craig –one of the finest alcoholic beverages I have tasted) and it wasn’t long before a huddle was made and the words to Wonderwall were sang loud and proud, in similar fashion to that of 500 Miles (could this perhaps be the start of a new tradition?).

As the night moved along a buzz filled the room as excitement grew in the news that Phatty T had indeed invited his lady friend over. But after it became clear he was not inviting her inside and was instead inviting himself into her car which was not leaving the parking space out the front of the house, something had to be done. That something was the dropping of the pants and the running down the street, in particular around the car. Now this brings up one of life’s great mysteries. One could say it was just bad timing, another just was of those things that happen in life that can’t be explained. Whatever it was, the chances of 4 young men running down the street with pants below the knees at the same time a cyclist cycles down the street in the opposite direction would have to be minimal. Especially considering that the street is a cul-de-sac. To say who was more surprised at seeing the other is anyone’s guess.
Back inside, Phatty T was given 15 minutes before another run would commence. Sure enough, 15 minutes later the young men left the safe sanctuary of the house for the second time but this time carrying a football, and pants and tops completely removed. With only underwear protecting their pride from the cold air, the football was passed around in a joyful manner. As happy as I was to see Thearley finally succumbing to the pull of the Australian game, something was strange about the way he kicked the footy. It wasn’t his action, I soon realised, but the fact that he appeared nude. Was Thearley starkers? I’m sure I saw him with undies. A closer inspection was needed and thankfully it revealed that no, he wasn’t running around bare, but was wearing yellow undies, yellow undies that in the night blended into his skin as though one.

The scene from inside the car must have been sore on the eyes as soon the car was driving down the street, the 4 young men in hot pursuit. With the car eventually leaving sight there was nothing to do but head back inside. Laughs, and apologies (Phatty we are very sorry), followed.

And so ended the night that will forever be instilled in the memories of those who were there. This night will become folklore, legend, and eventually myth to all those in search of the perfect night with mates.

Power to the Feet

Just wonderng if anyone can tell me why there are so many shoes on power lines lately. My 6km drive to work involves driving under at least 5 pairs of shoes stuck on power lines. Not just one - the pair of them. Fair throw that.

Look, Daddy, a whale egg!

Ah springtime is here. Blossoms are blooming, lawns are being mowed, footy finals fever has hit and birds are having sex with bees or so I’m led to believe. But now I’m at an age where I can question whether birds and bees can have sex with each other. Anatomically they are different and size must matter here. Plus the female worker bees don’t mate, only the Queen bees with what must be male birds so are there male bees to mate with female birds?

The answer must be yes. My female budgies have been up to all sorts of monkey business. The little bundle that is Wirruna and Little Chief’s creation escaped the confinements of the nesting box and took its first flight yesterday morning. I am unable to determine whether it is male or female yet but it is taking after father colour wise - a white face and wings with a beautiful sky blue front. And it took to its surroundings like the Brookstar took to his Norwegian exchange student lady friend – with hesitation, caution but finally gusto.

And to add to the thrill that is parenting, the other female resident (for which I still haven’t named – ideas? She’s is a pretty purple) hatched a youngling last Wednesday and another on Friday. Awwww they look so cute. Cant work out who the father is though. Initially Hansbert was spending a lot of time with her but now he doesn’t seem interested (done the deed and left?) and Pirate is very interested in the going ons. But can one-legged budgies mate? Maybe Little Chief is just getting around the avairy, a bit like Hoogster and Bilo.

Imagine the zoo right now. Keep the kids away!

The $1,000,000 Question

What gets smaller the more you put into it?

Saturday Spectacular

Ever had one of those days where you just wake up and you know it’s going to be great? Not a good day, not just a good morning or looking forward to a good night but a whole day of greatness. Maybe it was the week long excitement of waiting for this day, maybe it was the recovery of the flu but whatever it as I woke up yesterday morning and felt great. And the feeling didn’t disappear. It started with a truly wonderful sleep, the only real sleep I had for over a week, what with the flu, work and uni. What was to follow may seem insignificant to those unfortunate enough to have the disability of not liking/caring about football and to those I pity.
Breakfast was as per usual for a Saturday – Weet-Bix (slightly warmed), a banana and a glass of orange juice. Then off to football for the last match of the season. Now I haven’t mentioned my footballing exploits much on here and that’s because there hasn’t been much to talk about. Up till Saturday, my team (C grade) had only won one game previous, the game I missed attending Andymanx’s engagement party. So I didn’t partake in that win. And when I recently got the call up to B grade, a team that hadn’t lost a game all season, they lost so I didn’t get a win there (and was dropped back to C grade the following week). Add missed weeks for some injuries and a couple of holidays (one to the Murray as previously mentioned and one just recently to the Gold Coast which I haven’t mentioned but will now – awesome, Dreamworld = have to go there) and my season hadn’t really been a good one. But for this game I was feeling great and nothing was going to stop me winning my first game of the season, even if it was the last. And we won. I even kicked a goal just seconds before the final siren (after taking a courageous mark) to top off my best game for the season. The highlight, though, was being told by the boundary umpire – a kid who plays in the under 11’s for the club – “when I grow up I want to play like you”. That was about halfway through the last quarter and it almost brought a tear to my eye. I have tried for so long to inspire and received nothing back but laughs but here is a young lad with dreams of playing like me. I couldn’t stay long after the game unfortunately so just a few quick beers, some thankyous and goodbyes and I was off home knowing people were waiting on me. For Showdown XVIII was to start in 2 hours. And somehow front row tickets had fallen my way, right where the action is. A quick shower and soon myself, my mum and sister, an uncle and aunty and 2 cousins were on our way to Football Park for what was to be a great game.
Early on it looked daunting with only me and my cousin sitting up the front (the others were a couple rows back) surrounded by Port supporters, especially when Port kicked the first goal of the match. But the Crows soon hit their straps and the second quarter involved a lot of leaning over the fence and banging on the signs as the Crows outscored their less skillful opponents 5 goals to 2 for a 4 goal lead at half time. The third quarter wasn’t as pleasant, Port bringing it back to 2 goals at three-quarter time and then kicking a goal within a minute of play beginning in the last. Oh the tension, the excitement, the buzz. The Crows ended up coming out triumphant, the perfect finish to a great game. And then spectators were allowed onto the field. As I stepped onto the sacred ground that is Football Park a sense of pride washed over me. All the young kids were running around emulating what their heroes had just done and I just thought of the young lad who wanted to play like me. And then I realised I didn’t have a footy, I have about 20 in the boot of my car but none with me right when I need one. Oh well, it was still a great finish to a great day.

And just this morning I noticed one of Wirruna’s (the yellow female) eggs had hatched into a baby budgie! Little Chief is a dad! Just got to wait and see if the other 2 eggs hatch as well. Here’s hoping.

Oh Brother, Where Art Thou?

Holidays are almost at an end. And what lonely holidays they have been. For the last 2 weeks I have been living at home by myself (Im not complaining about that) as my parents and sister traveled to the Gold Coast by car via Byron Bay, Coffs Harbour, Noosa and Fraser Island (by their request I am to join them in a few days to visit the worlds of Movies and Dreams – I was studying my body in the mirror trying to work out how I would look walking down the beaches but I realised I’m too white and everyone will be blinded by the reflection of the sun off my body). I was thinking of going up a bit earlier and visiting Hamilton Island so I could catch up with my brother who has been working there for the last few months because, dare I say it, I have missed him these holidays. Back in the old days we would do everything in the holidays together, especially in the winter. Whether it be backyard cricket/footy/soccer by ourselves or with the neighbours or massive Nintendo competitions, we would have fun.

Lets go back in time to when I was 17. My brother was 15, the 2 next door neighbours 19 and 21, the neighbour across the road 16, his sister 13, neighbours two houses down him 14 her 16, the girl across the street and a house down 19. On any days of sunshine massive street cricket games would erupt, made even better by the fact that we live in a no through road meaning the only cars that came down were those that lived there. Or if there was only a few of us, the next door neighbours had a half-court tennis court so smaller cricket, soccer, tennis, basketball games would entertain us for hours. Or if it was raining we would play cards. I learnt and mastered many games including that of Cheat, Warlords and Scumbags, Entrepreneur, Black Jack (although not much luck at the casino) or the strategical board games of Risk, Space Crusades, and Cash Flow. Or if it was just me and my brother we would often spend hours in front of the Nintendo (or more recently the Xbox) and try and out do each other, especially at Mario Kart 64. We once even went all the way and started a massive Mario Kart 64 tournament consisting of competing in all four cups at 50cc, 100cc, 150cc and backwards with the ultimate champion being the one who earned the most points through all races. Bonus points were awarded for the cup win. And the same character had to be used over every race. I was a Donkey Kong fan. We would even spend hours taking it turns in time trials on different circuits to try and determine who the Ultimate Champion was.

Back to the future, and we have all grown up. No more street cricket or backyard soccer. And with my brother gone no more Ultimate Champion tournaments. As the song says: 15, there's never a wish better than this.

A Not So Splendid Time

Sad news fellow budgie smugglers. Old age has finally caught up with the eldest budgie Splendid, passing away on Monday. "She was like a mother to us all" wimpers Walrus the Gentle". "My first true love" sobs Pirate. Splendid lived a quiet, peaceful life and enjoyed the morning sun on cold winter days. Layng 8 eggs on 3 diferent occasions, Splendid never became a mother. Try as she might, the eggs just wouldnt hatch. This was the biggest disappointment of her life, often saying she just wanted to be a mother. "She will be missed" the words of Hansbert says it all.

Sweet dreams Splendid, sweet dreams.



And in more sad news for Pooh lovers, the voices of Tigger and Piglet have passed on, within one day of each other. I think the new Winnie the Pooh movie will have to be seen just put of respect.

Wedding Bells Are Chiming

Just a quick congratulations to my good mate Andymanx and his fiance on their engagement. Its very pleasing to see to young lovebirds so happy in love.

And Im very honoured to be a part of the wedding party.

My first bucks night...watch out ladies!

A Special Probe Into The World of Cricket

Shaun my good friend, that is one interesting topic that you have left me to ponder but one I am willing to delve into. A quick search has revealed that yes, team scores are tending to be higher these days than in yesteryears - at least for one day matches (and it should be noted one day cricket has only been around for about 30 years). Although the top 4 highest scores of all time (including Sri Lanka’s whopping 5-398 against Kenya in 1995/96) were hit in the mid to late nineties, a large proportion of scores above the 330 mark (when you know you have really been spanked) have been scored since 2000. Now why is this? Is it because players are getting better, or perhaps technology has improved the bats, or maybe even global warming has produced better conditions for batters. No I say, it can’t be any of those reasons. If players are getting better, then wouldn’t bowlers also be getting better? And most of the highest individual scores have been made in the century preceding the one we now call the present. In 1997, Saeed Anwar of Pakistan was able to smash his way to 194 against India. You have to go back to the days of Viv Richards of West Indies (1984) to get the second highest score of 189 against England. Mark Waugh’s (if you didn’t know he was Australian shame on you…shame ,shame ,shame) 173 against the West Indies is the highest score since 2000 (9th all time highest), followed by Craig Wishart’s (Zimbabwe) score of 172 against Namibia in 2003 and, in all fairness to Namibia, I have captained greater backyard cricket sides than the one they produced that day. So it would seem the players are of no higher standard than their predecessors.
So what about technology? Surely that must be having an effect, afterall golfers are hitting further and tennis players hitting faster. But no, cricket is a sport which has kept the rate of technology in check (except for the use of the third umpire – understandable for run outs but catches and LBW’s I mean cmon lets get serious for a moment). The only improvement on the bat is perhaps the quality of wood that is used to make it.
Global warming? The conditions do play a part in the game of cricket but because you cant play when it rains anyway, conditions have a factor of 0 in terms of performance.
So to the reason why team scores are tending to be higher now than before: Back in the mid nineties Sri Lanka changed the way the one day game was played. In the first 15 overs of the innings, the fielding side can only have 2 players outside the inner circle. This means there are a lot of players in close to the batsmen but if they can get the ball through the field it is at least 2 if not 4. The game plan was just to play conventional, safe cricket for 15 overs and wait for the field to spread out a bit. In the mid nineties, Sri Lanka decided the first 15 overs was where they were going to get there runs. With most the fielders up, it meant the boundary was unguarded. So Sri Lanka played unconventional, dangerous cricket - introducing new shots if needed – and took on the bowlers in the first 15 overs of their innings hitting the ball hard, over the top or through the field for boundaries. This is when they scored their 398. Now, although that thinking is still sometimes employed (like when Australia belted 359 against India in the 2003 World Cup final in South Africa and again just 2 summers ago at the SCG) most teams go for the conservation of wickets approach. The theory is that if a team still has 7 or 8 wickets left with just 10 or 15 overs to go, they can start to hit out and take some risks. So early on in the innings, instead of hitting out, teams like to go steady with a run rate of about 4 or 5 an over and keep wickets in hand. If they can make it to 40 overs with a score of about 3-200, they can afford to take risks and will quite often hit about 8 to 10 an over for the final 10 overs, reaching a score close to 300. Ten years ago, 250 would win more games than it lost, now 270/280 is generally a par score. This is also helped with the structure of the team. With each bowler only allowed to bowl 10 overs, there needs to be at least five bowlers in the team. These days there are normally 3 or 4 bowlers and a couple of allrounders. This means the team has more players that can hit the ball and not just swing the bat like bowlers tend to do. And this may also be why individual scores are not breaking records. The batters at the top may go out and have a hit early to try and establish a dominating position over the fielding side but if they fail, the lower top/ middle order batsmen bat to get the team back into a position where they can hit out at the end of the innings. Sri Lanka had the players in the mid nineties where they could keep having a hit early on even if they lost early wickets. These days, its have a go early and if that doesn’t work, consolidate and hit out at the end.
It may also be useful to note that in today’s modern game, many more countries are being introduced to the game. In the last world cup, countries such as the Netherlands, Canada and Namibia took part. The captain of the Netherlands was a doctor that took holidays to participate, Canada’s opening batsman only batted at number 6 for a South Australian district side (although he did hit the fastest ever century in a world cup – 111 off 67 balls – a fair effort ill give him that), and one of the Namibian players also played for Namibia in the Rugby Union World Cup suggesting he is one of the greatest athletes in the world or one of just a few athletes in Namibia – me thinks the latter. This can lead to traditional countries like Australia amassing big totals against these newcomers when they play each other.
On saying that, however, last night Bangladesh was able to cause what is perhaps the greatest upset in sporting history by beating Australia. As an Australian it was a gut wrenching moment (if anybody had been around to witness it, they would’ve seen a grown man cry) but as a sport lover it was good to see such a team take a big step in its development and I look forward to the next 10 years when they will become a much tougher opponent. Bangladesh has a population of about 150 million people and ill put money on that there are about 20 million (our population) kids who are right now holding a cricket bat dreaming of being Ashraful and scoring a hundred against Australia to win the match.

Anyways, this is perhaps the most I have ever written in 15 minutes and if you have made it this far I salute you. Why is it that it takes me all night to write a uni assignment but just a quarter of an hour to explore the fascination that is cricket? And I haven’t even mentioned test cricket yet and the way that it is almost opposite to one dayers (in that team totals don’t seem to be getting bigger but individual scores (like Matthew Hayden’s (an Aussie…shame, shame, shame) 380 2 summers ago and then Brian Lara’s (West Indies – wow brackets inside brackets – is that legal) 400 not long after) are on the rise. And what does this all mean for junior and social cricket? And what about yours truly? As a slow/medium swing bowler heading into the allrounder status, should I change my game to reflect that of the stars? But all that’s for another time. This is where it is at. Where?

O you pretty Chitty Bang Bang
Chitty Chitty Bang Bang, we love you
And in Chitty Chitty Bang Bang
Chitty Chitty Bang Bang, what we'll do
Near, far, in our motor car
O what a happy time we'll spend
Bang Bang, Chitty Chitty Bang Bang
Our fine four fendered friend
Bang Bang Chitty Chitty Bang Bang
Our fine four fendered friend

There's a mouse in my house, which is now empty

At 6am Tuesday morning a plane took off destined for Queensland and my brother was on it. Why? Because he is now working on Hamilton Island. So my brother's in Queensland, my dad is in Arkaroola (in the North of the state)...the house is getting quite empty. Just me, my mum and my sister. At least ill get the barbeque shapes to myself.

I must also mention my new addition to the "zoo" I seem to have. The other day while filling up the budgies birdbath I spotted a mouse. Turning the hose to 'jet' I aimed and fired. After about a five minute game of the mouse running around the avairy and me soaking it with the hose, (the budgies didnt seem to care, Walrus the Gentle even stayed on the ground unfussed by the whole mouse and water situation), the mouse ceased to run anymore. On inspection it was still alive but very cold and scared. And it was giving me that look. The one where you cant be angry with it anymore, 'Im actually really nice and cute' look. So I picked it up and put in in a fish tank (minus the water and fish). Back to the birdbath and yet another mouse pokes it head out a hole. By poke I mean struggle out of the hole. It really did look like someone climbing up a cliff, over that last little bit that got you back on flat ground, with your last ounce of energy. So into the tank with the other one. It was touch and go for a while for the second mouse, it really must have come close to drowning in one of the holes. The only movements it made for a while was when I poked it with a stick. A light above the tank though soon got both mice back to stable conditions. So much so that during the night the second mouse was able to escape. I dont know how it got out (can mice jump?) but now there is a mouse in the garage somewhere, much to mums horror. So now I need a name for the mouse.

Ralph Lauren..... who?

Some family friends recently visited China and upon their return brought some gifts to show their appreciation of all the partying I did at their house while they were away for the 2 weeks. One such gift was a blue polo shirt. 'Wicked' I thought. 'It looks quite nice, impress the ladies. Off to uni I go wearing blue polo shirt, taking no notice of the Ralph Lauren tag I cut off in the morning. Afterall, who is Ralph Lauren and what does it matter, the shirt is from China so probably a fake. But then someone notices the little black logo of a man on a horse (of which I couldnt work out what the logo was supposed to be) and is impressed by the calibre of clothing i am wearing. "Its a fake" I reply to their comments of appraisal "from China". But then closer inspection reveals that the shirt has all the makings of a real one, fakes apparently have many things different to the real thing. "No its a fake" I assure them. Only to find out later that day it is infact a real Ralph Lauren shirt. 'No biggy' I ponder 'real or fake it doesn't bother me. Who is this Ralph guy anyway?'

Just a famous fashion designer who sells shirts with tiny logos for ridiculusly high prices thats who! Probably the most expensive peice of clothing I have ever worn. I don't think I will be wearing it all that often now- wouldn't want soemthing to happen to it.

I Am Currently Experiencing Technical Difficulties But Please Be Patient I Will Be Back

If you are reading this than I am back. I don't know what went wrong but some of you peasant blogger readers may have noticed a lack of green screen and instead found white. Its all good now.

If You Have To Get Up Before Sunrise, You Shouldnt Have To Go To Uni

The heading says it all.

I've Been Kanoodled!

Not long ago I was the victim of a serious kanoodling onslaught. Pokes in the abs of steel, hands down the shirt feeling the iron pecs, continuos appraisal of my stunning good looks. And it worked...it felt so good! Finally someone realising the enourmous speciality of me.

Off topic..I've now had a texting relationship (kind of, maybe, its what i call it). Heres how it went:

Anonymous: Yeah i agree girl its just so hard getting back out there after being with him for five years...Ive forgotten wat to do. Sweet dreams. Wendy
Me: Sorry I think ou may have the wrong number. Have a good night.
Wendy: Oops sorry :0)
Me: No worries its all good
Wendy: Thanks, i feel like an idiot! My girlfriends now laughing at me...See what men do to ya!!!
Me: We're not all bad. Anyway, who hasnt sent a message to the wrong number before?
(I wouldlike to say here that at the time I was studying for a uni quiz the next day and completey bored)
Wendy: Oops again...Yeah i know all men arnt the same but im yet to find one! Sorry again god now i really do feel like an idiot!
Me: No worries. Have a good one.
Wendy: Ok i wont say anything else now but goodnight whoever you are :0)
Me: Cheers. Sam
Wendy: Good name! Thats my sons name too
Me: Great name. Bet he's a fantastic kid
Wendy: He is so cute! Excellent kid couldn't ask for better. Just glad he is like me and not his dad unfortunately
Me: Good to hear. Just dont let him talk to strangers the night before a uni quiz
Wendy: Laugh out loud! What are you trying to study?
Me: Human development. The Early Years. Interesting but would be better if i actaully had a kid
Wendy: How old are you if you dont mind me asking?
Me: 20. Still got a few years before my first. And yourself?
Wendy: Yes there is no rush for you believe me take your time. Im 31 and its hard work with kids but fun. Ill let you get back to study. Good luck tomorrow with exam
Me: Cheers. I enjoyed the distraction
Wendy: No worries anytime. Isnt it strange... I msg wrong number and now talking to complete stranger. Yes i enjoyed it too thanks. Now go study! :0)

And then it was over. At least I got her number!


(And before I go, just a quick tip. If you are at uni early in the morning, say when the cleaners are cleaning, make sure there isnt an old cleaner lady hiding in a cubicle when you go to the toilet. It can provide an awkward situation for both when she walks out before you have had time to shake it, shake it, shake it. Shake it like a polaroid picture!)

Like A Wave On The Ocean We Danced

For the last 2 weeks I have been living on my own, house sitting for some friends (and what a house it is!). However, the experience hasn't made me want to move out of home any sooner. To say I lived there would be using the definition of lived very loosley. To begin with I was loving it - the independance, the peace, the serenity. But I soon found myself on frequent journeys home for dinner and other food runs. Life on your own can lead to hunger and a longing for, dare I say it, something healthy to eat.
Anyway, the new house meant a differnt bus route to uni. Interesting? Not really except for that bus not operating before 9 oclock in the morning, screwing me around big time. Back on the 105, a full bus and one crazy guy holding his hands over his ears, putting his head forward and rocking, looking up about every 10 seconds and muttering stuff (probably about aliens). I really thought he was going to have a nervous breakdown or pull out a gun and start shooting at everyone or aliens. I am hereby declaring right now the 105 bus route the greatest bus route in the history of all bus routes.
And to everyone who said I was "whinging", my sore shoulder (suffered doing a courageuos team act in football) ended up being damaged tendons with some slight bone irregularites. Its only taken 10 days for me to finally be able to move my arm. But whatever doesnt kill me only makes me stronger!

Everybody Has A Hungry Heart

Sunday morning, 5:20 am and my alarm goes off. Why? Because someone was able to talk me into playing golf at Mt Barker, teeing off at 7:00. The things I put myself through for charity. If I was a Scottish traditionalist and wore a kilt I could have used all my digits to count the number of good shots I had. Thats right, 11. Of the 18 holes and the 4 hours I was on the golf course I only produced 11 quality shots. To be fair to myself some of those were 200+ drives straight down the fairway (but then i have to chip and those who have played with me know I prefer to putt when I get within 50m of the hole). But really, how hard is it to get a white ball into a hole without hitting water/trees/rocks/poles/bridges/people/all of the previous? I forgot to read andymanx's 'The Tree's and Me' before I played which didnt help. Luckily, though, it was this different scoring system that I hadn't played before and my handicap allowed me to score a few points (I didn't come last - I even beat someone in my group of 4, yay!). So I am sorry to say there is no inspiratioanl story of me playing golf (or any other sport for that matter - but dropping 2 catches in a cricket semi final and only playing c grade football will do that) except that I did hit the longest drive on the 16th (I think it was that hole) that one of my playing group had ever seen on that hole and he plays there a lot so I must be good.

And while on the topic of sport, when did bridge become a sport? The paper a few days ago included bridge in their brief sport rap up at the end of the sport section. Cards are not sport. Neither is fishing, chess, game hunting or soccer.

Pirate

A couple of nights ago a big rat disturbed my budgies and one ended up with a leg pointing in the wrong direction. Off to the bird doctor (Dr Wolf and Dr Bird are actually real vets (but not mine)) and on quick inspection he could see the leg was already dead. So off it came. Now, it probably isn’t a laughing matter but can you imagine a budgie with a gas mark on? Anyway, Pirate - as he is now called - is doing fine and learning to adjust to using just one leg. Seagulls do it all the time so I don’t think it will be a problem for Pirate. One of the other budgies broke a toe in the disturbance also but she is doing well and didn’t need any surgery.

I still haven’t named two of the budgies. Both are female, one bright yellow (sunshine maybe?) and one purple.

And for the mice and rats this is your final warning. I’ve tried keeping you out of the aviary but if you continue to harm my budgies I will be forced to use extreme measures of poison and traps. I don’t want to but you may leave me no other choice. Behave.

It Doesn't Get Any Better

For those of you not involved in a sporting club go join one now. Let it be football, cricket, lawn bowls or croquet I don’t care just join one. You don’t have to be good or even play just as long as you get to go on the end of season trip. You don’t know what you are missing out on. I didn’t know what I was missing out on. I have been playing sport for a long time but never went on an end of season trip until last weekend. And no words can describe the time I had. Swan Reach on the Murry with the cricket lads. People can tell you how good it is but you don’t actually know truly what it is like. Every moment is a barrel of fun. (Except for the hour I watched Rage on Saturday morning, listening to that Home and Away chick and that young blonde guy sing “Top 50” songs. I don’t know who decides they are top 50 but something needs to be done about it).

Anyway, I’ve never been the greatest swimmer or the most confident around water or ever been on a Wave Runner before but I can tell you I will get back on one whenever I get the chance. I used to think they just polluted the air and chewed up our fossil fuels but I now know what all the fuss is about. And sea biscuits!! I recommend these to anyone (minus the whip lash). The best ride I’ve ever been on in any theme park or anything. Add in BBQ’s (all that I ate bar a couple of eggs), alcohol (all that I drank bar a couple of plain cokes), football and the local pub and the weekend was my oyster.

Tip of the Day

When reheating last night's pizza in the microwave, don't put it on a plate. Cut out a piece of the box slightly larger than your pizza and microwave it on that. This stops the base getting soggy, and saves on washing up.

A Day On The Bus

Today was indeed a weird and wonderful day on the bus. Firstly, I left home at 9:43 to catch a 9:46 bus and it takes about 5 minutes to reach the bus stop so I had to run a little way. As I got closer I saw no bus and thought I had missed it until I saw others waiting at the stop. The bus arrived at 9:48 and didn’t depart for another minute, already 3 minutes late and it hadn’t already started its run. However, this driver had it all under control. It was almost like being in Speed, the bus not going below 50km/h. I was waiting for the driver to leave the doors open and people having to jump aboard as the bus drove past. He even started asking where everyone was going. However, I got to the city in one piece and in record time.

On the way home, the bus was almost full when I got on and I sat on one of those seats that looks backwards (on the older buses where 4 people can sit, 2 facing backwards. You know the ones). Now, the girl opposite (looking forwards) was quite pleasant to look at as was the very fine blonde girl behind her and the girl sitting on the back row of seats. Then the bus stopped and another girl got on, sitting next to the girl opposite me. I had first noticed her running to the bus as it stopped and the large amount of bounce she created in front of her. As she sat down I got a good look at the very low cut top she was wearing. The twins she was exposing weren’t overly huge but still very impressive. Where was I to look? Out the window, which is what I did for every time I looked around the bus I saw nothing but beauty. To make things worse, the driver was crazier than the mornings, braking in the last 5 metres at each bus stop and set of lights and hitting every possible bump in the road. And each bump set off the two twins. It was like watching jelly wobble, it just didn’t stop. It took every ounce of strength to not stare in awe at the sight before me because there was no snake in my pocket to use as an excuse. I can safely say I gave that trip 3 thumbs up.

I look forward to tomorrow.

Ridiculing Fat People

For years now it has been acceptable to ridicule and tell people off for smoking. I’m now taking it a step further. To all fat people out there – ITS NOT THE JEANS THAT MAKE YOUR ASS LOOK FAT. You’re not big boned, it doesn’t run in the family, you are just FAT. Get up, go outside, take a walk and if you are hungry when you get back eat some fruit. Stop complaining about being fat and do something about it. I’m getting sick of your excuses and hearing about you an your fat kids on A Current Affair. Just because there are millions of starving people in this world it doesn’t mean you have to eat for them as well. You should be ashamed of yourselves and not venture out in public. There’s nothing worse than fat people at the beach.

Remembrance & Welcome

I’d like to take this opportunity to welcome my new budgies, 2 females (one yellow one purple) and a male (white). For recently I have lost a few budgies, 1 to a mouse and 3 to a virus passed on by the mouse. I now have 7 budgies, 3 female and 4 male.

However, my budgies don’t have names. I haven’t given them names as I feel it isn’t my right to give names. I know the budgies by sight and they know me. Some have quite a character. Some a very curious and don’t mind me at all and will even eat out my hand or sit on my head or shoulder. Others are shy and are reluctant to come near until they see others are not being harmed. By giving them names I believe I am taking them out of the wild and taking their own right of giving names. But the recent deaths have me thinking. Should they really die without a name? Should they be known as ‘the budgies’? I know who they are and they know each other but perhaps a name will help others remember them. But what name is suitable. Greg, Tony and Martha are not suitable for budgies and Spotty, Stripes and Bluey is just insulting. Therefore I ask you, blogger reader, should I name my budgies and if so what names are appropriate?

So to the budgies that have left this budgie family I remember. To the new members of the budgie family I welcome you.

Hello Blogger World

This is an extremely witty and intelligent sentence that precedes my introduction into blogger world.

As Ben Lee sings in the background warning Cigarettes Will Kill You, I ponder ‘what can I write in my first blog?’. Thoughts flow through my head such as ‘what wood are the ashes made of?’ quickly followed by ‘I don’t really care what tree was cut down to make some stumps so aussie heroes could start the tradition of flogging england’. However, to keep the nerdfest that is Matt and Michaels sports trivia via msn night going I politely answer, probably incorrect. Yes, incorrect. Ash it turns out to be. (For you American rednecks cricket is a game of skill, passion and precision, a truly great game although not quite as good as aussie rules but thats for another day).

In all seriousness though, I do hope you enjoy and comment on this fantastic journey we are going to travel together - me as the master blogger writer and you as the peasant blogger reader. It should be great. In fact, I dont really care if you dont enjoy it Im going to keep writing anyway because someone, somewhere will enjoy it. Thats my aim in life. Be inspirational. If only one person is inspired about anything I say or do I am happy. I am always happy. I like to think that I've inspired everyone I've met. They havent told me but I know. Its the way they laugh at me when im saying something inspirational. Or the way they watch my immensely talented sporting feats. I always inspire on the field. Actions speak volumes.

I just ate a banana.

Samadoochi